


Knives

by inkstiel (Theconsultingdetective)



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: (not much), Aftercare, Blood, Cuddling, Knifeplay, Knives, M/M, No Sex, References to BDSM, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theconsultingdetective/pseuds/inkstiel
Summary: One of the nicest things about Mat was his willingness. It wasn’t like Robert was going to push him that hard; the few times that Mat said stop, either before or during or after, Robert stopped. But if Robert said, “Let’s try this,” or, “I think you’d like that,” unless it was a hard limit for Mat, they’d be doing it the next time they got together.





	Knives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MetaAllu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetaAllu/gifts).



> In case the tags weren't clear, there are knives in this! There are some cuts, but only in the sexual sense, and there's plenty of self-care. Enjoy!

One of the nicest things about Mat was his willingness. It wasn’t like Robert was going to push him that hard; the few times that Mat said stop, either before or during or after, Robert stopped. But if Robert said, “Let’s try this,” or, “I think you’d like that,” unless it was a hard limit for Mat, they’d be doing it the next time they got together. 

Bondage, they started early on. Mat wanted to try some stuff with wax on Robert, and vice versa, and both of them liked it so much that it made its way into their repertoire. Mat had his nipples pierced, so it was almost a given that Robert would take the little gold rings into his mouth from time to time. He didn’t like being hit anywhere above the waist, which Robert wasn’t interested in doing anyway, but a swat on the ass with a book or a few on the backs of his thighs didn’t go amiss. There were vibrators and dildos and Mat’s ever-expanding collection of dicks, which both of them enjoyed playing with, and eventually, there were the knives. 

Robert had a few in his “guest room,” which was not a guest room at all, in shadowboxes that Damien had taken the liberty of having framed. They were slender, gently curving blades, in cool silver or matte black or iridescent soft whites. Damien used them on him sometimes, shallow lines on his back with gentle pressure, but he preferred other methods that let them get a little closer, and he admitted that sometimes he felt a little cruel about the little pink ridges, even though they seeped back into Robert’s light brown skin after just a few weeks. 

Mat didn’t really notice them--the lights in there were low most of the time, and he was usually pretty...distracted. But once, they were cuddling afterwards, with Mat tucked into Robert’s side rubbing his wrists, when he spotted them. 

“What are those?” he asked. 

“Those’re my knives,” Robert says. “Want a better look?”

Mat blushes a little in the dim lamplight. “Can I?” 

“Sure.” Robert kisses his companion’s forehead and climbs out of bed. “I’ll bring them over.” 

He takes the long rectangular frame from the wall and moves the little clips around so the front comes off, leaving the knives bare in the low light. 

“Don’t touch,” he says. “They haven’t been sharpened.”

“Doesn’t that make them less dangerous?” Mat asks, beside him. 

Robert shakes his head. “Dull knives drag more,” he replies. “A sharp knife’ll cut you quicker, but it’ll be neater. Dull knives ‘ll tear you up.” 

Mat shrugs. “I don’t mind a few tears.”

Robert laughs. “I know,” he agrees, “but a bad cut’s no fun.”

“And a good cut?” 

Robert pauses and takes out one of the smooth silver ones, an elegant, almost delicate butterfly knife. “Why do you think I keep these around?”

“...can I try it?” he asks, his eyes the size of saucers. “Doing it? Or getting it, I don’t care.”

Robert nods. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I need to go get some things from the bathroom, first, though. Don’t touch ‘em ‘till I get back.”

“I know,” Mat says, leaning over to turn a lamp on. “I won’t.”

Robert ducks into the bathroom, grabbing his sharpener and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, plus a little tube of Neosporin for after. He gets a box of bandaids, too, little ones with Hello Kitties on them that he keeps around for when his granddaughter spends weekends with him. (They’re the only ones he has, for the moment). He washes his hands, then comes back to the bed and sharpens up the butterfly knife’s blade. Mat looks a little tense. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Mat,” Robert promises him. “It isn’t as if once you’ve started, you can’t tell me to stop, right?”

“Right,” Mat says, moving a few locs behind his ear. He takes the printed hairband from where it’s wrapped around his wrist a few times and pulls his hair back into a sizable ponytail. “I know that. I want to. I’m just nervous.” 

Robert nods, scraping his thumb against the newly razor-sharp blade of the knife. “That’s okay,” he says. “Here, put your hand over mine.” He reaches his left hand out, holding the knife in a sturdy grip.

“I didn’t know you were lefthanded,” Mat laughs, fidgeting. 

“Ambidexterous,” Robert winks. “Hold still, okay? I’m gonna do a little one on you, so you can see how hard I’m pressing and what it feels like to be on the receiving end. I need to pick somewhere that’s not too sensitive to start out.” He looked over Mat’s upper arms, and found a little spot between his beautiful sunflower tattoos that snaked from wrist to shoulder. “Are you ready?” 

Mat looks him in the eyes and nods. “I’m ready.”

Robert reaches up, Mat’s right hand over his left, and drags the blade gently over his skin. Mat gasps when the sting comes, and grips Robert’s hand even more tightly. The cut is shallow--scarcely deep enough to draw blood--but Robert still tends to it quickly as soon as the knife is pulled back and set safely aside. He wipes up the one small bead of blood, and rubs on Neosporin with a clean thumb of his right hand. 

“Is that a Hello Kitty bandaid?” Matteo asks when Robert pulls it from the box. 

“Maybe so,” Robert says, blushing a little. “They’re for Emmy.”

Mat smiles, and puts his hand over Robert’s once the bandaid is smoothed over his cut. “I like it,” he says, fondly. 

Robert nods.

“There,” he says, hand still on Mat’s arms. “You did good. How do you feel?” It’s been forever since he’s had the knives out of their boxes, since he’s used them or had them used on him, and he’d almost forgotten the incredible closeness this affords him. 

“Good,” Mat manages. “That’s…a lot. The rush is crazy. It didn’t even hurt.” 

“It shouldn’t,” Robert agrees. “Not badly, at least, not for long.” He cleans the blade of the knife. “Do you want to keep going?” 

Mat considers. It had been good, really good, but heavy, too. He felt even more tired than he had before, in a pleasant way, sure, but tired nonetheless. 

“No,” he says. “That’s enough for tonight.” He leans over and gives Robert a kiss. “Put that stuff away and let’s go to bed.” 

Robert doesn’t have to be told twice. He packs up the knives and hangs them back up on the wall, and he and Mat wash their hands, and then they leave that room and go back to Robert’s bed, where there’s just sleep (and sometimes a blowjob or two, but who’s counting). 

“Thank you,” Robert says while they get settled in. “That was nice. It’s been a while.” He kisses Mat’s shoulder. “I, uh, always have a good time when you come over.”

Mat laughs and lets his hair down. “I won’t tell anyone you said that,” he teases, “softie.” He kisses Robert’s forehead and they slip into bed together, tangling up, careful of Mat’s new cut. 

“Tell me if you need anything,” Robert says. “Goodnight, Mat.”

“Goodnight,” Mat answers, and lets all his tiredness take hold.


End file.
